


Christmas Drinks

by colisahotnorthernmess



Category: Find It Fix It Flog It RPF
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, First Kiss, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Public Display of Affection, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 14:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17184668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colisahotnorthernmess/pseuds/colisahotnorthernmess
Summary: Henry had to confess that getting Simon drunk was the highlight of his Christmas. Because Simon was different when he was drunk, he'd come to realise. The first time Simon had drunkenly flirted with him, two Christmases ago, he hadn't really been prepared for it; he'd laughed it off, giving Si a hug and a friendly farewell. But, after sitting and thinking about it during the following months, it soon became something he could barely stop thinking of.





	Christmas Drinks

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is a work of fiction involving real people written by myself - it is a completely made-up fantasy and is in no way intended to cause offence.

Christmas drinks had become a bit of a tradition for the Find It, Fix It, Flog It lads - especially after handyman Phil Carroll had joined the line up. He'd made it quite clear that he point blank _refused_ to see in the festive season without a good pre-Christmas piss up with the three of them. They'd invited Gemma but, after the first time, she'd had enough motorbike talk and testosterone to last her a bloody lifetime. She would rather sit at home and do her Christmas crafting, for sure! So it was much to Phil's annoyance _this_ year that he had to be the designated driver, what with Gemma and Simon having done it in the years before, when it came to driving the pair of them back to Liverpool.

On the other hand, it was much to Henry's delight that _Phil_ was the sober one this year. Because, although such an admission made him blush, he had to confess that getting Simon _drunk_ was the highlight of his Christmas. Because Simon was _different_ when he was drunk, he'd come to realise. The first time Simon had drunkenly flirted with him, two Christmases ago, he hadn't really been prepared for it; he'd laughed it off, giving Si a hug and a friendly farewell. But, after sitting and thinking about it during the following months, it soon became something he could barely  _stop_ thinking of. Sadly, the year after, Si was sober and nothing was to happen between the pair of them.

Cole, himself, however, was all too sober right _now_. Guy had volunteered to take him home this year but, since getting his Harley Davidson motorcycle - which Henry and Si had rescued from one of their sheds whilst filming the show - Guy didn't use his car very much these days, and Henry thought that being completely inebriated and propped up on the back of a Harley with no seatbelt was probably quite a dangerous prospect. So he decided to bring the Land Rover instead. They were at a country pub halfway between his own house and Merseyside, where Simon and Phil lived, as they all decided it was the fairest option - but it was too far to take a taxi home.

Guy was at the bar, settling their tab, whereas Phil had decided to nip to the gents before the long drive, leaving Henry and Simon to wait for them in the car park. The pair wandered outside, into the cold, and were truly alone only for the first time this evening really - and, beyond the 'brr' of a little shiver, they were quiet, which was unusual for them. Simon was first to break, with a drunken giggle as he watched the white vapour spill from his mouth and nose as if he were a dragon, into the freezing night air. Henry smiled and beckoned him out of the cold and into the smoking area, where there was a heater.

Not that there was anything on _earth_ which could warm up Cole more than the sight of O'Brien tipsy like this - touchy-feely and amorous and so totally _not_ like Simon. There was something about this time of year which made people merrier than usual, he tried to reason with himself. But his self-lecturing wasn't working - he couldn't _tell_ himself to stop feeling this way about Si; couldn't tell himself to stop wanting Si; couldn't stop his  _heart_ from skipping a beat every time he'd put his arm around him this evening and pulled him in, protectively and away from everyone else.

"Hey you," Simon said, breaking the thought. Henry was so caught up in his thoughts of Simon that he'd almost forgotten he was standing there.

"Hmm?" Henry grinned.

"Where's my present then?"

"Present? Mate, you got to spend an evening with yours truly! _That's_ your present!"

The younger man started to drunkenly laugh once again, one hand on his friend's shoulder, "You're such a bighead."

The Liverpudlian jovially shoved him, and looked up at him, a spark in his eye - a _loving_ spark - and Henry couldn't help himself from returning the affection; he was powerless to resist. " _Unwrap_ me then," he growled, pushing Si backwards, gently, against the public house's exterior wall, and then adding, "That's what you _do_ with presents, don't you?  _Unwrap_ them."

"Henry?" Si said, startled by his actions. But, with his co-host moving towards him, and a determined - that was a rather determined to _have_ Simon and _have_ him _now_ \- look in his eye, Si was not 'behind the door' for very long, and it took him even less time than that to step _through_ it. He ran a tongue thoughtfully over his sticky, cider-covered lips and smiled. Sliding hands around Henry's waist, he led him gradually closer, until the empty space between the two men and the brick wall was virtually absent, and they were trapped together in tight embrace.

"Shit," Henry hissed, the curse accompanied with a sharp intake of breath, as - despite initiating the contact - he was totally overwhelmed by the sudden closeness. "I want you so much, Simon," he gasped, so near to Si's ear and in a manner so seductive, it was enough to make the other man's knees completely give way and sink him to the gravel. "Desperate to kiss you, mate... Absolutely fucking _desperate_...."

Though Cole's words were such a turn on to O'Brien that he could barely think straight, there were to be no more words - Si lunged forward and kissed Henry, powerfully, and explored his mouth with his tongue, with his bearded friend hardly having chance to breathe - the lack of oxygen making him light-headed, though Henry was pretty sure that the kiss was doing a good enough job of that by itself. His eyes rolled upwards, seeing a sprig of imaginary mistletoe dangled before them, before his eyelids closed and he was lost in the kiss. He could taste the dark fruit drink on Simon's lips and the _taste_ , along with hands which danced over the front of his winter coat and fluttered downwards to play with the fly on his jeans, would make him instantly hard.

"God," he groaned, dragging himself away from the kiss, "I _need_ this, Si."

Simon chuckled, still rather sloshed and hardly sobered in _any_ way by the activities, though Christ only knew how _that_ was when he was kissing Henry in public and - though broad daylight wouldn't be the right term to use - it wasn't fully dark yet and _anyone_ passing could have seen them. But how could he stop himself? He was under the influence of _more_ than simply alcohol. And so he squeezed Cole's bulge through the fabric of his jeans and made him moan with ecstasy - albeit a moan which was restrained. "You're excited," he'd observed, sensually rubbing and teasing Henry's erection through the denim and indulging in the reaction it produced.

"Jus-- Just thinking..." he stammered, shivering from the cold, but _also_ from the location of Si's hands, "... of all the fun we can get up to when we're alone in sheds." He shivered further, and was slightly puzzled as Simon started to undress him now, hands moving upwards to untuck his shirt and frozen fingers sliding under his clothes, a shock to his skin. Henry flinched at the coldness of the touch. 

"Hey, it was _you_ who said that presents were for _unwrapping_ ," O'Brien reminded him, and they both laughed at the joke. But it was not the only laughter within earshot; when they heard their friends exiting the pub, chatting and laughing, they had no choice but to slowly part and step away from each other, as Guy and Phil turned the corner and started to approach them.

"Ah, well," Henry mouthed to Simon, shaking his head.

"Ready?" Phil had chirped as he paced towards them, but neither of the boys were actually listening to what he was saying. The goodbyes became a blur; their hearts ached and longed for each other as their hands waved to one another from across the car park.

But Guy, as ever, brought Henry back down to terra firma with a bump. "So what's going on between you and Simon then?" he asked.

"I-- I'm not sure what you're talking about," he stuttered.

"Mate... Your shirt's untucked," Willison pointed to the mess of material bunched around Henry's midriff.

"Felt a bit warm under that heater," came the explanation, his voice slightly nervous.

"Oh, right. And what about that dark fruit cider all over your face? Or have you started wearing purple _lipgloss_ , Henry?" Guy snorted.


End file.
